Salar de Uyuni, Days 2-3 (Dec 17-18th)

A blessedly piping-hot shower, for which I paid 10 bolivianos, and a simple breakfast were the only prelude to the first kerfuffle of the day. One of the tourists in our group had neglected to pay for her shower the previous night, which motivated the proprietor to ask Juan for the money, which sent Juan on a tear through the hostel. He jumped down my throat, but quickly apologized when I told him I had paid for mine. I then hunted down Australian Sandra, who I knew had not paid for hers, while Juan followed at my shoulder, accosting anyone he saw about it. Although she gladly paid up at this point, this set in motion a series of confrontations between the two and particularly choice words whispered to everyone on the tour by each of them about the other.

Once we were packed back up and into the jeep, we headed off again, stopping first at an old set of railroad tracks, which seemed to go on forever.


Then we observed a smoking volcano from an gloriously unearthly landscape some 20 miles away.


After having driven another full hour, we stopped at the first of a series of lagoons we would be viewing that day.


There we watched a flock of flamingoes scour for their lunch as we had lunch ourselves, prepared by Freddy and the cook out of the back of our jeep.


Then it was an otherworldly journey across the world's highest desert, set appropriately to the sounds of Radiohead and Pink Floyd, thanks to Guy's Ipod. Freddy, who only spoke Spanish, had let us take over the sound system the day prior. Per James's request, I also asked him if my dear thrill-seeking travel buddy could take the wheel for a while over the rocky terrain, but Freddy merely smiled and shook his head.


Another hour passed before we reached the Stone Tree, basically, a big rock shaped like a tree, and, interestingly shaped as it was, I admit that I had been hoping for a bigger payoff for the number of hours we had been driving. The ride was beginning to wear on me and my dust-filled lungs. And James felt no differently.


Fortunately, the next sight that awaited us was the simply sublime Laguna Colorada, one of the most beautiful places I have ever been. The pictures simply cannot do it justice. The same algae that the flamingoes eat and that turns them pink has the same effect on the lagoon itself, but beyond that, other elements combine to create a delirious rainbow effect across the water. I don't think there is a color that wasn't represented somewhere on its surface.





On the shores, little moss covered fingers of land jutted into the water, causing James, who does a mean Samwise Gamgee impression, to remark that we might as well have been standing in the Shire.


But after we'd stood at the shore for a few moments, the wind kicked up something fierce and we had to battle to climb back up the hillside, which was covered in a soft ashy grey soil, and we needed a breather when we finally got to the top.


On the ride back, our other two tour mates, Michiko and Joon, took over DJing, and I thought James's head might explode from the steady stream of Bruno Mars tracks pouring from the speakers. When he had reached his limit, his head swung back toward us from his position in the front seat, his eyes big a saucers, and he cried out, "What IS this?!?" I nearly peed my pants laughing.

That night, James's stomach problems kicked in in earnest, and he laid in bed reading while I played cards with the rest of our group. We all spent the night in one large dorm, each of us absolutely freezing since the second hotel had no heat despite the frigid desert night conditions.

The next morning, I shivered through breakfast, which at least surpassed the previous meals by tenfold, and the group laughed at me for taking the extra pancakes in case lunch returned to the previous standard. And since we were delayed because one of the jeeps wouldn't start, we all jumped back into our beds, fully-clothed to wait. When we did get into the jeep, Katarzyna and I literally snuggled up in the back leeching off each other's body heat, while the boys toughed it out. I still hadn't warmed up by the time we reached the geysers an hour later, but standing downwind from them certainly helped.


Although in order to do so, I had to wrap my nose up in my scarf, the sulfurous odor being over-powering.


The effect of the smoke over the newly-risen sun was stunning.


And unlike in most U.S. national parks, where geysers have protective rails around them, you can walk right up to and climb over these, "until some idiot falls in and dies," as our guide put it. I was almost that idiot.


Following the geysers, we stopped by some natural hot springs but since I was the only interested party in our group, we moved on. The final sight of our trip was Laguna Verde, which wasn't so much green as aquamarine, but still provided a lovely vista.


After that, we dropped off Michiko and Joon at the Chilean border, from where they would continue their travels, and we headed back toward Uyuni. The rest of the day mostly consisted of riding over bumpy roads and listening to James's Itunes (partially just to avoid Freddy's shriek-filled Bollywood-influenced Peruvian pop music). We stopped for a late lunch at a small ranch, for lack of a better word, in the middle of nowhere.


We were pretty ravenous, but that still wasn't enough to motivate Matthew, a French-trained chef, to partake of the tuna, rice and vegetable medley put in front of us. "I have tastebuds."

When finally we arrived back in Uyuni, we tipped Juan and Freddy, who suddenly became much chattier with me once the money was in hand. I then paid to have a shower at the hostel I'd stayed in previously, we stopped off for pizza, and headed to the bus station to return to La Paz. James and I knocked ourselves out with melatonin for the notoriously bumpy bus ride, and off we went.

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Location:Uyuni, Bolivia